Jihi
by Winged Monkey
Summary: Oneshot. Jihi: Japanese. Noun. The expression of mercy, kindness, or compassion. Leonardo is teased by Raphael, making him wonder if jihi is weakness...Or is it strength?


_A/N: Happy Independence Day to all my American friends out there!_

**Disclaimer: I own nothing more than a plot.**

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Silence filled the air, broken only by the sound of a soft swishing. It was dark, as is the wont of the sewers, but the darkness was made even more intense by dank quiet. Fog, blotting out the stars above and glowing with neon hues on the streets above, echoed its deadening still on the world below. It was in this realm of seeming nothingness that a rat stirred. In truth, it was not the soft sounds coming from the main room that had somehow managed to wake him, even though the maker was obviously being as quiet as an eight year old turtle could be. No, it was the intense flow of emotions, seething and yet precise. Splinter rose off of his _tatami_ and carefully lit a candle. Instantly, the soft sounds from the main room ceased.

Inwardly, Splinter sighed. It was most certainly one of his eldest sons, most likely Leonardo, judging by the reaction to the lighting of the candle. He had recently found himself thinking of both Raphael and Leonardo as somehow older that Donatello and Michelangelo. _Even though I found them all at the same time, _he mused as the thoughts rushed hurriedly through his head in less than a second.

The light of the candle flowed softly into the main room as he gently pressed back a panel of the _shoji_ screen that separated his room from the rest of their home. The flickering light did little to dispel the many shadows that could be hiding the young ninja-in-training. The old rat sniffed the air for a moment and then turned towards a shadow. A gentle smile pulled at the edges of his mouth.

"Come out, Leonardo," he whispered. "Step into the light."

As ordered, the turtle stepped forwards, his eyes downcast. Master Splinter immediately noticed that he was holding both of his wooden practice swords.

"It is late to be practicing. You should be in bed like your brothers."

"I-I'm sorry, Sensei. I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Leonardo, look at me."

The young turtle glanced up and met the rat's gaze, his hazel eyes momentarily grabbing hold of the candle's orange light, but immediately they looked downwards again.

Splinter walked forwards and knelt down on one knee so that both sets of eyes were at the same level. "What troubles you, my son?"

"It's nothing," Leonardo mumbled, still refusing to meet Splinter's gaze. "I just wanted to practice a bit more."

Again, the rat sighed to himself inwardly. Of all his sons, Leonardo was the one most likely to successfully keep secrets away from his father's notice. Nonetheless, he placed his paw on the turtle's shoulder and stood up. "Let us put those _bokken_ away."

Leonardo nodded and followed his father to the practice weapons storage rack along the side of the wall. Splinter still kept their true weapons in his room, especially at night. The wooden practice swords were quickly placed in the empty slots.

"Come with me to the kitchen, my son."

"Hai, Sensei," the small voice replied. Splinter was certain that Leonardo was thinking about what sort of punishment he would receive for being up this late after his bedtime as well as awakening his master. The light of the candle diminished in the main room but shone brightly in the small kitchen. Splinter placed the flame onto a small dish in the middle of their kitchen table.

"Sit down for a few moments." Splinter pulled a kettle from a cabinet and filled it with water. He then placed it on the small cook-top and waited for it to boil. He could sense Leonardo fidgeting quietly in the chair behind him. After a few minutes, Splinter removed the kettle from the heat and pulled a tin down from a high shelf. Reaching inside, he pulled out several leaves and sprinkled them into the pot. He then replaced the tin and got down two handle-less teacups. With the ease of much practice, he poured the light tea into both of the cups and turned back to his son. He handed Leonardo a cup. "Be careful, it is very hot. Sip it slowly, like this." Splinter lifted his own cup to his lips and sipped lightly out of it, sniffing appreciatively at the deep scent.

Leonardo looked down at the cup in confusion. "Aren't you going to punish me?"

Master Splinter smiled sadly at his pupil, wondering when such a fear of punishment had grown within his son. "That depends entirely on why you were up tonight, even though you know that you should stay in bed and sleep."

Instead of answering, Leonardo looked down into the teacup, watching the bits of tea leaves float gently in the light green liquid.

"I cannot help you if I do not know what is wrong."

"T-there's nothing wrong."

A thought popped into the rat's head. "Does whatever that is troubling you also involve one of your brothers?"

Splinter received no answer.

"Leonardo?"

The turtle's shoulders slumped as though he was being forced to reveal something that he dreaded to even contemplate. "Yes."

"And what happened?" Splinter prodded a bit more.

"Raph said that I'm nothing but a softy an' a weak 'fraidy cat because I said that I really hope that we don't ever have to kill anyone," Leonardo whispered so quietly that Splinter had a hard time hearing him. "He said that'll make me a lousy leader and a lousy ninja."

"Then why did you sneak out of your bed this evening?"

"I guess I just wanted to make sure that if we do ever get in a fight, I could fight and just hurt whoever we're fighting a little and not kill them. I-I want to be a good leader, Sensei. I don't want to let you down."

"Leonardo," Splinter reached over and placed one of his paws on the child's hand, "look into my eyes."

This time, instead of turning away almost immediately, the young turtle met his father's gaze evenly. Splinter could see the worry and inner turmoil etched behind the hazel eyes.

"You are my son. You could never disappoint me. To value life is essential to being a good leader. To show _jihi_, compassion, does not make you a 'softy.' A leader is a lot like this tea. He must be hard and sharp like the tea leaves but also soft and gentle like the water. Separate, they both have many good qualities. But it is only when both sharp and gentle combine that your real strength can blossom. It takes strength to kill but even more strength, courage, and skill to not kill."

Leonardo's eyes lit up. "So I'm not a 'fraidy cat?"

"No," the turtle's Sensei laughed quietly as he stood up and walked over to the child's chair. "You are very brave yet you carry too many worries on your young shoulders. Do not worry about killing or death. Let us both return to our beds and I shall teach you a new _kendo_ move in the morning that is used entirely to disable your opponent without injuring them seriously."

"Okay, Sensei," came the reply mixed with an enormous yawn.

* * *

A full moon shone down on the rooftop, its bright beams deepening the encroaching shadows. One such shadow fell across the length of a trash-strewn alleyway, hiding the misshapen reptilian form towering over the fallen figure of a man. The turtle was pointing a long sword directly at the terrified gang member.

"Please don't kill me, man!" A purple, heavily tattooed arm flung itself in front of a frightened face.

The direction the katana was pointing lowered slightly. "I could do a lot worse than just kill you." Contempt laced the stern voice. "I could make sure that you could never do what you just tried to do to that girl back there."

The man gulped nervously and cringed, unconsciously curling his legs slightly closer to his chest. "I-I promise! I won't ever do it again! Really!"

"You had better not." The katana withdrew a little. "But if I _ever_ catch you doing anything like that again, I can promise you that you will regret it. This is your only chance. Don't waste it."

"Y-you're letting me live?"

"It's called compassion. You should try it some time." With that, the turtle was gone, leaving the man wondering how on earth ninjas could appear and disappear seemingly at will.

High above him on a rooftop, two turtles looked down at him before sinking silently into the long, dark protection of the shadows.

"Don't tell me Fearless is gettin' soft in his old age!"

"Firstly, Raph," Leonardo retorted, "nineteen isn't old and may I remind you that we're the same age? And secondly, no. There was no need to do much of anything other than freak him out a bit."

"He didn't deserve it," Raphael muttered darkly.

"That's the thing with compassion. It's easy to show it to people who deserve it, but it's more important to show it to those who do not."

The hot-headed turtle snorted in mild disagreement. "Yeah, whatever, Splinter Jr."

A bank of clouds drifted in front of the moon and the two ninja disappeared into the realm of shadows.

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"Tenderness and kindness are not signs of weakness and despair, but manifestations of strength and resolution." – Kahlil Gibran

_And so, thus ends another of my midnight writings. Did you like it? Or not? It only takes a couple of seconds to tell me. Flames will be used for roasting marshmallows!_


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